


Kiss me babe, it's Christmas Time.

by Heyashes



Series: The Brave Ones Verse [3]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: But with a very happy ending., Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Developing Relationship, Interior Decorating, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, mention of handjobs, sort of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2821358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyashes/pseuds/Heyashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I never had a Christmas tree. [...] No one had time for Christmas trees or birthday presents in that house."</p><p> </p><p>Or: the one where Thomas is struggling to keep up with his new life and Newt can't help but try to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss me babe, it's Christmas Time.

**Author's Note:**

> We're only a few days away from Christmas and what's better than some warm, adorable fluff?  
> Hope you enjoy this new chapter and a massive thank you to the ones who bothered to read and comment the past ones: it means the world to me!  
> Have an amazing Christmas! All the love xx

Newt liked Christmas.  
He wasn't one of those hardcore fans, but he couldn't say he disliked it either. He just enjoyed the warm atmosphere and how everyone at least tried to be nicer than they usually were during the rest of the year.

Not to mention that everything was different now.  
Now he had Thomas. His lovely Bambi-eyed boyfriend who still costantly looked so awestruck and scared that Newt would leave him even after months of dating and living together.  
Newt had and wanted to make it big for him.

 

He wasn't particularly surprised to find Thomas asleep on the couch when he came back from uni at four in the afternoon: he'd never seen someone sleep as much as the other boy did. It was almost like he had to make up for all the nights of sleep he'd lost before they met. There was no way Newt was going to wake him up: he felt like Thomas deserved to rest as much as he wanted to.  
He ran his fingers through his boyfriend's chocolate brown hair as he passed him on his way to the bathroom and smiled when he earned a satisfied hum in return. It was almost like Thomas tended to praise and thank Newt as many times as he could, no matter if he was awake or not, and Newt was pretty sure he'd used all the synonyms of 'adorable' he knew in his head.  
He glanced to the boxes of Christmas decorations sitting next to the tree that was yet to be covered in items in the corner of the room and shook his head fondly to himself thinking back at how eager Thomas had been about the whole Christmas decorations thing, almost more than he used to be when he was little.

...And Newt really was a Christmas enthusiast as a child.

 

He went for a shower, and as soon as he stepped in flashes of that morning crowded his mind: skin on skin, teeth scraping on collarbones, frantic touches to send each other off the edge before Newt was late for class, breathy moans.  
Thomas' moans really were Newt's favourite thing to hear (especially first thing in the morning), and he couldn't help but think how amazing he would sound if it wasn't just desperately frantic handjobs they were exchanging.  
It wasn't like he was impatient to get  _there_ , but he was more than allowed to think about it, wasn't he?  
He just really hoped Thomas would never find out about his solo times in the shower thinking about how it would be to finally have sex, because then he would feel like he  _owed_ it to him and really, that was the last thing Newt wanted.

He was content with how they were, after all. Lazy making out sessions and foreplay were more than enough for now.  
Sort of.

He concentrated on finishing it quickly and go back to the initial task of getting rid of sweat and exhaustion from the day, allowing himself to just one faint groan as he reached his climax. He stepped out of the shower not more than five minutes later and proceeded to the now usual act of slipping into a pair of Thomas' baggy sweats and one of his (horrible, may he add) graphic t-shirts before he padded back to the living room and crouched right next to the couch.

"Tommy?" He called softly, reaching out to gently brush his fingers through the sleeping boy's hair: he'd found out Thomas had a thing for being woken up gently and lovingly. He'd never really been one for mushy stuff and PDAs whatsoever but then again, he wasn't a lot of things before he met Thomas.  
The dark haired boy only stirred and curled up around the pillow he was hugging even more, causing Newt to snort.  
"Thomas." He tried again, letting out a sigh that was soaked in fondness.  
It seemed to work this time, and Thomas slowly blinked his eyes open, giving Newt the most confused look ever, as if he wasn't expecting to find him there when he woke up.  
"Hey," He croaked out, staring into Newt eyes. "I'm tired." He then added after a few seconds of silence, causing Newt to laugh.  
"And when are you not? I was thinking we could decorate our Christmas tree, but if you're too tired for that..."

The velocity with which Thomas sat up and rubbed his eyes at the words was absolutely impressive, and the blond couldn't help himself but laughing loud and fond.  
"Oh my god, stop acting like a bloody kid," He hummed leaning in and pressing his smiling lips to his boyfriend's in a gentle kiss. "It makes me want to kill you with kisses." He muttered with his mouth still pressed against Thomas'.  
He felt Thomas' long strong arms wrap around his neck as he deepened the kiss and let himself being pulled on the couch and on top of the brunet.  
"Yeah, yeah, I missed you, too, but we're never going to start anything if you don't let go of m-"  
  
"I never had a Christmas tree."

Thomas' words cut the air like knives.  
What the hell did that even mean that he neve had a Christmas tree? Newt felt his heart sink: apparently Thomas' life had been way tougher than he'd thought.  
He stared into the other's whiskey coloured eyes, trying to find something to say but failing: what do you say when someone tells you that they never had something like that? Soomething so common to be almost taken for granted?   
Thomas probably sensed his discomfort, because he began to spoke before Newt could ask anything. "My father was some sort of a big drinker," He explained, his voice calm and words measured since he knew Newt's reactions could be really strong at times. "My mom had an affair with her boss. She was never home, and when she was she liked to pretend I didn't exist to not remember that she had something in common with the pig passed out on her sofa," He kept quet for a while, then shrugged as if all he was saying wasn't much of a big deal. "No one had time for Christmas trees or birthday presents in that house."

Newt was once again speechless. It happened often when it came to Thomas, whether if it was because the blond found himself staring at how stunning the other one looked without being able to find the right words to describe it or because Thomas often came up with heartbreaking details of his past life that made Newt cringe and want to smash the heads of the ones who made his boy like this against the nearest wall.  
Thomas didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve to be broken, or walked on, or be left in a lonely room to cry. Thomas deserved to be loved and cared for, cherished and adored for the painfully amazing human being that he was.

He sighed instead of speaking and got up, holding out his hand for Thomas to take: the brunet didn't want sympathy or anything like that. He'd learned that pretty soon in their relationship. "Come on," He said, instead of wasting time and words with telling him how sorry he was that he had to go through something like that: Thomas knew that he was. And Newt knew that Thomas knew.

Thomas gave Newt's hand a faint squeeze as he let himself being pulled up and just stood there, in the middle of the living room in one of those ugly Christmas sweaters he'd insisted they'd buy (now Newt understood why, and he honestly liked it better when he thought it was just because he was dating a bloody dork) while nibbling on his lip as he casted nervous glances to the boxes sitting on the floor next to the echological pine tree Brenda got them a few days prior.  
"I don't... really know where to start," He admitted then, his head hangin low between his shoulders as he felt his cheeks heat up: what kind of person didn't know how to deal with a Christmas tree? It was basically all about hanging some random shit to the branches making sure it looked nice enough.  
But it wasn't exactly like Thomas had seen many nice things in his life to be sure about what was considered pretty and likeable from most people and not just from him because basically every thing he saw that didn't look horrible or gross automatically became beautiful to him since when he was 7.  
He jumped a bit when he realised Newt was gently pushing one of the large boxes against his chest but took it anyway, blinking at the blond.  
"There is a full bunch of Christmas baubles of different colours in there. You pick a couple of colours that you like and we'll use them to decorate the tree," He explained as he wrestled with a particularly tangled set of lights.  
Thomas sighed and sat down on the carpet to carefully open the box. He felt like an idiot: He was 19 and needed a 20 year old to explain him something so easy like he was some sort of retarded kid. Those were the times he found himself wondering how someone like Newt would waste time with someone like him.  
He took a look inside and aknowledged the impressive number of baubles and decorations, some of them handcrafted, probably things Newt had done when he was a kid, if their rudimental look was anything to go by. He felt like he couldn't pick.  
He wasn't going to pick now that he could have everything.  
"I like all of them," He murmured raising his eyes to meet Newt's.  
The look Newt gave him was beyond fond and adoring, and Thomas felt like screaming: he wasn't someone to be fond of. He was a fucking idiot.  
"Then we're using all of them. No big deal," Newt shrugged as he finally managed to untangle the lights and wrap them around the tree. "I always wanted a rainbow Christmas tree." He smirked then, and for some reason it made it alright. Like Thomas' weirdness wasn't something to hate but something to draw good things from.  
It just didn't make sense to him, but it somehow worked.

Newt let Thomas take his time considering colours and patterns, hanging and moving the baubles over and over again until he was finally satisfied with his work. The blond would just move around, pretending to help but really letting Thomas be the one doing all the work without him realising it: he just wanted him to enjoy every moment of it.  
...And if the adorable way Thomas was furrowing his brows and sticking his tongue out a bit was anything to go by, he definitely was.  
Newt eventually gave up his whole acting and sat down on the carpet where Thomas had earlier, taking his sweet time watching him. He honestly was impressed: he didn't think an architecture major could be that... creative. He'd always thought about them like serious, rigid people.   
Apparently Tommy was the exception.  
He snapped back to reality when he heard Thomas crawl on the floor next to him with a soft grunt, and immediately turned his head to the side to nuzzle the brunet's shoulder.  
"It looks really good," He nodded after a few seconds of staring at the now finished tree: there were a few patches that were a bit messed up or didn't follow the pattern Thomas had been trying to follow, but Newt didn't mind: he was more focused on Thomas' hopeful expression.  
"Do you really think so?"  
Newt smiled and nodded again, feeling the weight of Thomas' body against his side as he leaned against him (with a relieved sigh that the blond pretended he didn't hear). "Of course I do, you dumbass," He added with a smirk, reaching out to ruffle Thomas' hair and earn a yelp in response.  
" _Newt_!" Thomas quickly pulled away and gave him a mock offended look, trying to fix his hopeless mop of dark hair.  
"I'm not even sorry!" Newt laughed shaking his head. "Just look at you!"

 

_"I love you."_

 

And there it was again, Thomas' ability to knock the air out of Newt's lungs just using words.

 

"What... I'm sorry. What did you say?"

 

That couldn't be. Thomas didn't say things like that. Not out loud. Thomas was terrified of feeling. Thomas didn't expose himself.  
Newt's heart was about to explode in his chest like a supernova.

 

"You make me happy. I love you."

 

And if they made love for the first time on a carpet in front of a newly decorated Christmas tree, and if Thomas got really close to having a panic attack in the middle of it and Newt had to spend ten good minutes stroking his hair and telling him how beautiful and lovable he was while being deep inside of him, well, that really wasn't for anyone but them to know.


End file.
